


dovetailed

by oelc, Soulsisterblondzilla



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Original characters - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Original Character(s), Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-10-17 18:31:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10599717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oelc/pseuds/oelc, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soulsisterblondzilla/pseuds/Soulsisterblondzilla
Summary: collabs between mel and I, featuring our dragon age ocs verdun and kal (usually)!





	1. beginning

Kal ascended the white marble steps with a smile. The red underfoot was _real_ velvet, dipping under her pinpoint heels. She ran her fingertips over the smooth stone bannister, gaze roaming over the gold-tipped pillars, the delicate leafy reliefs painted high on the ceiling and the sweeping white silk curtains blocking the night from her. Her smile split into a wide grin – she’d come a long way since the Circle.

Her smile faltered when a familiar song reminded her why she was here. She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head, trying to push down the dread rising in the pit of her stomach at the sound. She’d been keeping the wardens calm enough for now, but… she genuinely had no idea what to do.

It was coming for her already. She was terrified.

She opened her eyes, smiled and kept walking, head high. Her gaze flitted between people, trying to find someone who might be able to help her, someone…

“Did you hear? The Inquisitor is a _Dalish!”_

Kal paused, watching the Orlesians grouped up around the entrance to the ballroom. They tittered, leaning close together. Kal wrinkled her nose. Their dresses were terrible.

“A _rabbit?_ Are you quite serious?”

“Oh, yes,” the woman speaking gave a smirk, “Imagine that! Both the Inquisitor _and_ the Warden Commander are _elves!”_

“And they wonder why the world is falling apart.”

Kal’s fingers clenched into her dress and she took a moment to let the tell-tale gathering of furious frost melt, Alistair’s voice strong in her mind; _‘Don’t freeze anyone! You don’t make friends like that.’_

Maybe she didn’t _want_ to make friends. She kept her smile fixed as she walked towards them and they fell silent.

“So, where _is_ this Inquisitor?” She spoke sweetly, “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”

“A-Ah, uh…” a slack-jawed woman pointed to a spot at the back of the room where two elves, already looking in her direction, stood, “Over there, Warden Commander.”

“Thank you.”

Kal walked straight through the middle of the circle and the women skittered back. As she got a few steps away she heard one of them call hesitantly after her,

“A-A lovely dress, Warden Commander!”

_Of course it is -_ Kal didn’t even turn, biting back the remark. She walked on, raising her chin. She was doing well, she thought.

The two elves stood side by side and it took Kal a moment to work out who was supposed to be the Inquisitor. One was slight, white hair piled on the top of her head in an intricate braid, a soft, confident smile that inched towards becoming a smirk but never quite crossed that line. The other was taller, broader, with the stoic expression of what she could only assume was a guard. Maybe a guard captain.

She veered towards the light haired woman at the last second. She was very pretty. Kal raised her chin higher and let a bit of teeth flash with her smile.

“I’ve been told you’re the Inquisitor.”

“Have you?” The woman hummed, looking annoyingly amused, “And what would you _like_ with the Inquisitor?”

“Well…” Kal glanced between the two elves and the Orlesians surrounding them. She felt her shoulders deflate. This was important, and she was already tired of playing the game, “The wardens have some… _issues_ I think the Inquisition could aid us with. It’s… _sensitive.”_

The Inquisitor’s expression didn’t change. Kal felt herself flush just a little bit – she hadn’t had issues dealing with nobles since Amaranthine, but she’d always had the upper hand. She’d never been _desperate_ before.

Wait, was she _begging?_ Dying to the blight might be preferable.

“It would benefit you, too.” She added, somewhat miserably.

“And you’re the warden commander, are you?”

Kal pouted, puffing out her chest a little, “Of course I am.”

The Inquisitor let out a sudden, wide grin, “You’ll be wanting to speak to my companion, then!”

She gave the elf next to her a soft touch on the arm and they nodded, walking past Kal towards one of the empty balconies. Kal stared blankly after them a moment until they turned and gestured to her to follow. She hurried after, flushing a little.

“Tell me,”

They spoke bluntly the moment Kal got the balcony door closed, shooting an icy-cold glare at anyone that tried to peer through. She raised an eyebrow up at the elf and their eyes flicked downwards for a moment, adding a “please” after a beat.

Kal giggled and waved a hand. She was already feeling more at ease away from the prying eyes of the rest of the group, “It’s not all _that_ serious, really. I’m Kal, Commander of the Grey in Ferelden – pleased to meet you.”

She held out her hand with a smile. The elf took it in one hand, laid the other on top, then inclined their head down to where they interlocked. A Dalish thing?

“Ezra Mahariel,” they spoke carefully, “You said… Not serious?”

She grimaced, “I guess… it is a bit, yeah,” she took a final look around the empty balcony, “I suppose this is as safe as it’s going to get…”

She looked at Ezra – they hadn’t even moved, still waiting. She sighed.

“In the past few weeks, everyone in the wardens has begun to hear the Calling… me included. It’s been, um…. _difficult_ to keep everyone… calm.”

_“_ _Every_ warden?” Ezra’s eyes widened.

Kal let out a short, nervous laugh, “Apparently. I was hoping the Inquisition could help us… work out _why._ If you could commit some of your resources to us, we can work out whether it’s real or fake and…” She swallowed, “What to do if it turns out to be real. If you can do that, I can guarantee the wardens will help you in return.” She shifted from one foot to the other, “Or what’s left of them.”

Ezra nodded carefully, brow furrowing together, “It seems in our best interest. We have encountered issues with darkspawn that you would be of help with.”

Kal cocked her head to the side, “Darkspawn? That’s weird. They destroyed Haven?”

Ezra paused, “Yes and no. There was a dragon, but the darkspawn was its master. It said-”

“Wait,” Kal felt her stomach drop from under her, and suddenly she felt too warm, fingers itching with nervousness, “The darkspawn _spoke?”_

Ezra’s mouth pressed into a thin line and their cheeks darkened slightly – clearly they hadn’t meant to let _that_ one slip.

They spoke stiffly, “Perhaps your… expertise could help us there, too.”

Kal struggled to take a breath. _It can’t be him. He’s dead, I killed him myself._ “Did he tell you his name?”

“Corypheus.”

The tension in Kal’s chest eased, if only a little. Not the Architect… but _another_ one running around? She didn’t think she had the strength to kill another.

“I can help with that, yes,” she smiled weakly, “I might avoid the dragon though, if that’s alright with you.”

Ezra’s lip quirked, “That is… understandable.”

Kal chuckled, “Perhaps we-”

The doors flew open behind them and two Orlesians, clinging to each other and giggling furiously, froze in the doorway. They looked Kal and Ezra up and down and glanced at each other.

_“Damned rabbits,”_ the woman murmured.

Kal felt her hands curl into fists again. She’d gotten what she wanted, right? Would it be _such_ a big deal if she bought a little snowstorm down on the party?

“Would you give us some privacy?” The man spoke primly, a wrinkle in his nose.

“Maybe _you-”_

“Would you care for a dance, Warden Commander?”

“A- what?” Kal squeaked.

The frost around her fingertips disappeared with a tiny _hiss_ of steam as Ezra simply took her arm and started to lead her towards the ballroom. Kal felt panic grip her and she dragged her feet.

“Um, Ezra, I’m um… not much of a _dancer…”_

“It will get us away from prying eyes. Sometimes it is easier to be private in public.”

“You say that, but-” Kal flushed as her heels tapped onto the dance floor, “ _Maker’s breath…”_

It was terrible at first, like it always was. The music beat just a little bit too quickly for her feet to keep up and she _never knew_ what to do with her hands – she could hear the nobles tittering around them, laughing at her – she gritted her teeth.

She winced when she managed to spear Ezra’s foot with her heel, “Sorry…”

But Ezra simply inclined their head, ever-so-slightly, “I see.”

And suddenly it was so much _easier._ She could feel Ezra’s arms guiding hers when they moved off in a random direction, their feet nudging hers just before she had to move them, forward, back, one-two-three to the left. Difficult passages were simply bypassed as Ezra improvised the steps, earning both icy and appreciative looks from the other attendees. They spun her, lifted her off her feet with ease, turned circles around her when all she needed to do was look.

As the height of the song neared, Ezra locked their hands around Kal’s waist and swept her into the air, a circle of trailing blue silk sparkling in their wake. The panic returned for a split second and Kal had to claw her hands into the epaulets on Ezra’s shoulders, but she was carefully lowered – bodies close – until her heels hit the marble with two soft _clinks_.

They bowed to each other as the song came to an end. Kal was breathless, giggling, “I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.”

Ezra held out their arm to walk her back from the ballroom, “Danced?”

“Danced _well,”_ she giggled again, feeling flushed, “That felt _great.”_

“Warden-Commander!”

She turned to face the servant running towards her, a letter clutched in his fist. He panted with the effort of dodging between hundreds of immovable guests.

She cocked her head at him, “Yes?”

“A letter for you from Vigil’s Keep. It’s urgent.”

She frowned, ripping open the letter and shooing the servant away with her hands. Her eyes skimmed the letter.

She felt the blood drain out of her face.

Kal looked up at Ezra, eyes wide. Then, she scrunched the paper into a ball and shoved it behind her back, laughing nervously, feeling tears well up dangerously in her eyes.

“Ah – the, uh, situation with the wardens has changed,” her voice shook and she took a breath, “I really need your help.”

Ezra nodded, taking the letter from her with a soft touch.

 


	2. kissing lessons

There is a lovesick fool weeping and blubbering all over himself in the Herald’s Rest. His friend is shushing him, shooting apologetic looks at the few remaining taverngoers and whispering in a way she hopes comes off as a conciliatory. From the sound of it, it isn’t working.

Maryden's fingers strum furiously at her guitar. She can’t drown it out, try as she might.

“She said she was _in love_ with me!”

A sigh.

“You don’t believe me!” he challenges wildly through his tears, then quieter, “…she definitely said she loved me.”

“She told a merchant from Val Royeaux that she loved her yesterday,” his friend says emphatically.

“I’ll never be satisfied again!” he wails.

“Well, that might be true at least. From what I’ve heard, shes quite… _imaginative_?”

“Heard from who?!”

Kal clicks her tongue at them pointedly from her seat at a table nearby, hiding her cheshire grin behind a slender hand.

“Really!” she quips, and hopping off her stool, "You shouldn't gossip!"

All the rumours couldn't possibly be true. Really, no-one was that good. Her grin stretched wider - time to crush them.

Kal finds Verdun bustling about in one of the as of yet unoccupied towers, doing whatever. She’s managed to set a fire in the hearth that bathes the room in a warm orange glow – it gave her little hiding spot up the ladder away for this mage on a mission, so Kal doesn’t snuff it out. Yet.

“Oh! You’re early,” Verdun says without turning around.

Kal’s eyebrow twitches at the smile she hears in her voice, “No I’m not. What are you doing here?”

She whirls around in surprise but a lazy smile makes its way across her face quickly. Apparently she was arranging some kind of… nest in front of the fireplace.

“Hmm, that’s a secret!”

Kal bristles, but manages not to take the bait. She was slowly learning how to win these things.

“Help me out with this?” Verdun gestures at the sheet in her arms.

Kal sniffs at being asked to do... well, _anything_ , but takes the whole thing off of Verdun. _‘Step one of showing her you’re better in every way.’_ With a touch, she freezes its corners to strategic places: the candelabra on the wall, the corner of a table, the shelf above the hearth itself. When she’s done, Verdun claps excitedly, thanking her and taking her hand.

She pulls Kal down into the actual _blanket fort_ she’s been complicit in making.

“So what are you doing here?” Verdun asks when they’ve settled in.

“You’re not the saint you pretend to be, are you?” Kal asks instead of answering her.

Verdun’s gaze trails from the defensive set of her shoulders to the snide look on her face. A-ha. Straight to business, then.

“I didn’t know I was pretending to be anything! Tell me more,” Verdun counters, with raised eyebrows and a quizzical tilt to her lips.

“You made some poor man cry today, you know? Horrible! Everyone’s calling you such _awful_ things I would never repeat of course-“

Verdun frowns at that. She knows who Kal is probably talking about: a sweet farm boy who joined the Inquisition without telling his parents. She spent some time with him between missions, his calloused hands reminding her of dalish hunters who came home late at night with fresh game, even if his round ears dispelled the illusion somewhat. But he liked her too much, had too many plans for them.

Kal is still talking.

“-and I don’t think it’s even _true_ , really. You must’ve been _so bad_ that it broke his _mind_ -“

“Oh?” Verdun interrupts, drawn out of her reverie.

Kal is still mid-word, open mouth and all. Her wagging finger stills and she purses her lips, "Hmph. Think you can prove me wrong?"

"And what did you have in mind?" Verdun asks, suddenly amused, "Are we going to compare notes? Count bed partners on our fingers?" She took a moment to lean forward, placing a curled hand beneath her chin, "Or perhaps I could just show you."

Kal wrinkled her nose, genuine confusion crossing her features, "Show me?"

"Well, if you'd like to see how you measure up against me...?"

It all finally clicked in Kal's head, and - _oh_. Verdun wasn't expecting that. The blushing, yes, but the sudden, nervous determination? Is Kal really about to ask her to kiss under a blanket in a cosy little corner of Skyhold? Verdun is certainly not _dissatisfied_ with that, but she really didn’t expect her evening to go this way, either.

"Fine," Kal says tightly.

"Fine?"

"I can prove it."

"Can you?"

And suddenly, it’s too late to retreat, so the mage barges in with all the grace of a druffalo:

“Just show me what you can do!”

The crossed arms are back. Verdun’s jaw closes with an audible _click_. She clears her throat. She wouldn’t ridicule Kal, but the situation is a little ridiculous. So Verdun leans in, quickly pecking her on the lips. A puff of frost crinkles the air in her wake.

Kal splutters. She wasn’t ready! It was over before she could even show her what she can do!

“Do it seriously, Verdun!”

And because it’s almost endearing, Verdun relents. She starts slowly, crawling over until there’s only a breath of space between them. Their knees are touching. She peeks at Kal, to make sure – a challenging glare greets her in return. Before pressing closer, Verdun untangles the other woman’s arms, lacing their fingers together. With her free hand, she coaxes Kal onto her back.

Verdun presses her lips to the corner of her mouth and Kal can’t prevent a little ‘oh’ from escaping. She keeps catching her off guard! There’s a little resistance there too, so Verdun whispers for her to be serious, as she is. The kisses trail downward, feathering her neck and following her collarbone down to her chest. Every point of pressure is punctuated by Verdun’s whispered assurances; _‘it’s all right,’ ‘tell me what you like,’ ‘give the word and i’ll stop.’_

Kal presses her lips together. She supposes she _should_ be serious, considering it was she who asked for this, but… her cheeks are feeling warm – because of the fire, of course. There are flutters of something in her stomach, her chest, and maybe she-

Verdun unties her hair. It falls around them in a halo of white, creating a sense of privacy the blanket hadn’t managed for Kal. The strands tickle the sides of her face when the kisses continue, varying in intensity so she at least has time to catch her breath when she needs to. A hand that’s slipped between the folds of Kal’s skirt is rubbing _distracting_ little circles on her upper thigh, and suddenly Kal gives up trying to prove much at all.

She supposes the wailing tavern boy didn't lose his mind to the horror of it, after all.

There’s a warm feeling rising up from her toes and when Verdun’s attention strays from her lips, it’s Kal that pinches her chin between a thumb and forefinger to draw her back in.

At last, Verdun presses her body closer and kisses Kal's lips, her cheeks, forehead and the tip of her nose in quick succession.

“Satisfied?” she teases. She thinks she knows the answer – Kal’s cheeks are flushed and her eyes hazy; more tellingly, the rebuttal doesn’t come as sharp and fast as Verdun’s gotten used to. When it does, there’s no real heat behind it.

"I, uh-" She actually stammers, for just a second, before her cheeks grow darker and her eyes finally focus irritably on her, "I still don't see what all the fuss is about."

They disentangle and Kal sets to righting her clothes – Verdun doesn’t bother, her own cheeks pinker than usual.

“Why did you sleep with that boy if you’re not in love with him?” Kal asks suddenly. She refuses to look at Verdun.

“Why? You don’t have to be in love with someone to enjoy them, you know. Haven’t you ever thought of sleeping with someone you don’t much like?”

Kal’s face twists in disgust at the memory that dredges up. Verdun laughs softly.

“Well, maybe not…”

A knock at the door startles them both. Verdun presses a finger to her lips when it looks like Kal is about to give whoever it is an earful, then dances up to the door. She opens it an inch and whispers something to the person on the other side. By their footsteps they seem to move away.

Turning to Kal, she offers an apologetic shrug.

“My friend is here,” she explains.

_Oh_.

Kal tuts, composure somewhat regained. She has half a mind to cause a scene, but Verdun does look sorry and Kal _is_ feeling like she needs to flee tp someplace quiet. Some other place quiet.

So she does, back straight and chin raised. When she sees the merchant from Val Royeaux pacing about outside, she snuffs out the fire.


	3. unexpected

Kal thought it would be a good idea. She really, really did – and maybe it still was, but the panic was swirling in her gut. A storm had hit them on the wall through an overpass, the snow too thick to keep walking over the narrow space they’d had to edge over to get to the other side of the mountain, so they’d bunkered down in a tiny cave carved into the side. It was cramped, damp, and full of about a dozen sweaty soldiers. Kal had _maybe_ flirted with at least half of them to get her tent pitched a few times, and the thought of sleeping too close to them made little spikes of fear run up and down her neck – so she found herself in the corner, a damp wall on one side and Verdun on the other.

She was beginning to regret her decision. The last time they’d been this close had been… _well._ Maybe sleeping next to Ezra would have been a better bet.

Verdun’s hand moved tighter around her waist and she brought herself closer, a sleepy huff throwing warm breath across Kal’s chest. Her nose was burrowing into the hollow of her throat, sleepy murmurs making Kal shift uneasily – what was she doing? She _had_ her own bedroll!

She tried to ignore it, forcing herself to relax, head lolling so that it leaned slightly on Verdun’s. Her breath puffed out of her lips in little icy clouds and Verdun shivered, pulling herself even closer. Kal rolled her eyes and then closed them, nestling down into her bedroll.

She could hear the sound of dozens of shoulders shifting in their sleep. The rain thundering against the rock on the other side of the cavern, the wind whistling as it tried to get at them through the entrance. She imagined the calming sight of the rain pouring down in sheets, the silence that comes with hearing nothing else but water cascading down from the heavens…

Her arm had gone numb.

Her eyes snapped open and she scowled, trying to wiggle it out from under Verdun. Verdun let out a sort of sleepy whine and suddenly the arm slung over Kal’s chest had a grip of iron. Kal gritted her teeth, wiggling her hips slightly – _there!_ Her arm slipped into the gap between Verdun’s waist and the floor and she curled it around Verdun instead, letting out a sigh as her hand flooded with warmth.

Verdun sighed back. Kal glanced at her, eyes narrowing – then gasped lightly when Verdun’s lips touched the side of her neck, pressing soft kisses into her skin.

She moved upwards, slowly, pushing her lips to the hollow of her throat, up her windpipe, to the curve beneath her chin and her neck, softly grazing her skin.

Kal sighed before she could stop herself, inclining her head back, pushing herself into Verdun’s lips.

Verdun’s leg swung between her legs, pushing against her, and Kal’s eyes snapped open.

“Verdun…” Kal breathed, “There are a lot of people here…”

She got nothing but a sleepy murmur in response. Kal turned to her, eyes wide – she was _asleep?_ Who _actually_ sleeps like that? Who-

_What_ was she dreaming about?

She tried to push her away again but Verdun just clung to her even tighter, whining so loudly that one of the soldiers nearby stirred in their sleep. Kal froze, waiting for them to roll over and fall still again.

Kal groaned softly as Verdun finally burrowed her face against her chest and fell still, breathing more deeply. She guessed she was stuck like that all night.

Kal carefully moved the hand that had planted itself on her breast, face scarlet.


	4. knots

It was another Orlesian banquet, and Kal thought she was getting better at them. She knew not to run straight for the untouched tables full of the best food she’d ever tasted in her life – as _hard_ as that was – and she knew that starting arguments with Orlesians that comment on your ears, no matter how justified, was a no-no.

It was still worth it for the view. Her eyes trailed over the golden hall, ornate awnings decorating windows open to the warm summer heat. The breeze trailed silk curtains into the ballroom, the light danced off the glittering chandeliers and dotted Kal with little fireflies, and she felt a little like she was standing in a dream.

“Are you waiting for _me?_ ”

Kal turned at the sound of Verdun’s voice, a _‘why would I be waiting for you’_ at the tip of her tongue – but instead, her mouth shut with an audible _click._

She looked _stunning._

Pure white silk framed every inch of her hips and her chest, barely held together by reams of rope tied in intricate knots. Her hair was piled atop her head in messy silvery waves, but a few strands trailed down to her chest, drawing Kal’s gaze there…

“You _were_ waiting for me!” Verdun closed the gap between them with a few steps forward, dress flowing behind her as she wrapped a hand briefly around Kal’s waist and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose, “Lucky me. Do you like this dress?”

“I do…” Kal breathed, then smirked, regaining herself as she planted both hands on Verdun’s hips, “Looks fiddly.”

Verdun gave a frown of mock-seriousness, “Very. Only a true professional could handle it.”

“Oh really?”

“Otherwise known as _Josephine Montilyet,”_ Josie appeared next to Kal so suddenly she jumped, not having noticed the glare boring into her back. Kal raised an eyebrow back and Josie rolled her eyes, _“Don’t_ ruin that dress. It is the very best of Antivan tailoring.”

“I’ll take perfectly good care of it,” Verdun smiled at Josie, who shook her head as she wandered off. Even Kal could tell she didn’t believe a word Verdun said.

“Shall we dance, bel’athim?”

Kal looked up from the knot she was already picking at, “What does that _really_ mean?”

“It means _most beautiful…”_ she caught Kal’s hand and pulled it away from the knot, “and _unsubtle.”_

Kal just chuckled, “I think _you’re_ the most beautiful, today.”

Verdun smiled so sweetly Kal found herself blushing, and she leaned forward to press a kiss to Kal’s lips.

“Let’s dance.”

Inspired by Josie’s little telling-off, Kal tried to pick each of the knots on the dress apart as the night went on. Verdun would catch her almost every time, shooting her a smirk and a little _tsk_ as she moved her hand away. Kal managed it once on the ballroom floor, when she could pretend her fiddling was her hanging on for dear life as Verdun spun her wildly around. She managed a couple more when her target was otherwise occupied talking to some noble-or-whoever on behalf of the Inquisition, but she was fairly sure Verdun had started to loosen them for her.

Eventually, she lost patience and took Verdun by the arm, bringing her lips close to her ear, “Meet me upstairs.”

Verdun didn’t answer, only leaving her with a whimsical smile as Kal stalked off towards the nearest staircase, dress billowing behind her.

 


	5. revanche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by mel, edited by hester  
> sequel to kissing lessons

Kal thanked the soldier that had pitched her tent for her with a touch to the arm and a smile – making her way back to the main group when he stammered something unintelligible and wandered off in a random direction.

She furiously avoided Verdun’s glance when she saw her lounging cat-like by the campfire, slender fingers held close to the flames and white hair spilling over her shoulders… She couldn’t _quite_ forget that kiss, not matter how much she bitterly told herself to. Now, whenever they made eye contact she couldn’t stop blushing, and she hated it.

More than anything, she’d _lost._ It was mortifying.

Ezra was waiting. They eyed Kal as she made sure to sit on the other side of the fire to Verdun, pulling her knees up to her chest with a soft _huff._

“Everyone is on watch duty tonight,” they said when Kal finally settled, shooting her a pointed look on the word _everyone._

Kal pouted, “Do I have to-”

“Yes. In fact, you and Verdun are taking first watch.”

Kal sat up in panic and looked between Ezra and Verdun. Verdun, annoyingly, didn’t bat an eyelash – but she was _sure_ she could see the hint of a smirk pulling at Ezra’s lips, just _there._ She glared at them. They ignored it.

* * *

A few hours later and Kal and Verdun were sitting in silence on either side of the campfire. Kal was making little ice flowers between her fingertips, trying to keep her hands busy in the quiet and to keep the twisting in her stomach at bay. The petals of one shattered under her fingernails and sent a puff of frost up into the air. She cursed softly – they were too small, too fiddly.

Kal dared a peek over at Verdun and fought against a smile. She’d wrapped herself in about ten blankets, only her eyes peeking out through the shivering cocoon. The ice probably wasn’t helping much with that.

The fire crackled uncomfortably warm next to Kal. She looked back down to the flower in her hand, and was just about to get one of the petals to curl, when something warm touched her thigh.

Kal glanced up in surprise when Verdun gasped, jerked her foot away from Kal’s leg – and then lost her balance. She practically fell backwards in slow motion in her bundle of blankets.

Eventually, there was a muffled, “You’re so cold!”

Kal giggled, “That’s what you get.”

Verdun slowly struggled back up, her whole head peeking through the disheveled blankets now that she’d pulled the makeshift hood down. Kal’s giggle faded as she shot her a sly smile.

“…What?”

_“I_ know a way we can keep warm.”

Kal cursed herself for feeling her cheeks warm, “…how?”

Verdun slowly leaned towards her, blankets falling away. She placed one hand lightly on Kal’s thigh – then held up a pack of cards with the other. Kal glared at her and she grinned.

Kal rolled her eyes, “If you want me to beat you at poker, sure.”

* * *

Kal didn’t win at poker often. She wasn’t very good at the whole ‘bluffing’ thing, and she still wasn’t _really_ sure how all the rules worked – but somehow Verdun was _worse;_ throwing away the wrong cards, expression so clear even _she_ could read it. When Verdun suggested they start betting their own clothes, Kal couldn’t help but agree… It wasn’t like _she_ was going to lose any, after all.

By the time Verdun was down to her underclothes, Kal threw down her cards. Verdun was shivering, after all… and controlling the blushing was proving too difficult for Kal by this point.

She offered her the cloak wrapped around her shoulders with a triumphant smirk, “Give up?”

Verdun nodded, eagerly snatching the cloak up and nestling back into the blankets, not bothering to put her clothes back on.

She sighed at her as Kal giggled again, “I do miss my warm room in Skyhold, at times.”

“I thought you’d be used to the cold, being Dalish and all.”

“We can’t all be part icicle,” Verdun sniffed, but she was smiling, “Besides, the nights were warmer where my clan stayed. The rain dried quickly, and snow was practically unheard of…”

Her eyes drifted around them, at the snow they’d dragged away from the camp. For just a moment, Kal thought she saw something she couldn’t quite put her finger on in Verdun’s gaze – something like regret, or sadness, or maybe even fear. But just as quickly it was gone, Verdun’s soft smile turning into a smirk.

“Of course, if the nights _did_ get cold, there was always someone to keep you warm.”

Kal snorted, “Of course there was.”

“Was there no-one to keep _you_ warm in the Circle?”

Kal stiffened, shoulders raising as she looked back to the fire, “…Sometimes.”

Verdun merely made a soft _humming_ noise in response and they sat in quiet for a few minutes. By the time Kal looked up again, Verdun’s eyes were drooping, the rest of her snuggled deep into the pile of blankets.

Kal picked up the nearest pebble and threw it at her. It bounced harmlessly off the blankets, but Verdun opened one eye.

“So violent.”

“If I can’t go to sleep, _you_ can’t go to sleep.”

Verdun nodded, eyebrows drawing together in an expression of utmost seriousness, “Yes, of course, you’re right.”

Then she shuffled over to Kal, rested her head on her shoulder, and promptly closed her eyes.

Kal frowned down at her, “Hey…”

She spoke more softly than she intended, trailing off as she watched Verdun’s eyelashes flutter and her expression relax, breathing slowly. Kal huffed– it wasn’t long until the end of their watch, anyway. Might as well let her sleep.

Kal watched her for a few minutes longer, then looked around the campsite. Finding the coast clear, she slowly inched an arm around Verdun’s waist, pulling her closer…

“Your watch is over.”

Kal squeaked at the sound of Ezra’s voice.

She reflexively pushed Verdun away from her, whoseeyes flickered open with a small _oh_ as she tumbled backwards, blankets spilling out from her.

Kal jumped to her feet and scowled at Ezra’s bemused expression, already stomping back to her tent.

“Good. Maybe _I_ can actually get some sleep now.”


	6. maintenance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by mel, edited by hester

Kal frowned, concentrating hard, eyes closed. She could feel the ice coiling at the tips of her fingernails. She reached for her staff slowly with her free hand, the other cupping nothing but frosted air in front of her. She could feel the cold billowing out around her in freezing waves – and she opened her eyes just in time to see the frost enclosed around her, a swirling sphere of a shield that obscured most of her sight with white.

When she finally dropped the sphere a group of young wardens greeted her, some still picking themselves up from the floor.

She gave a little smile, lifting her chin, “And you can create that with whatever you find easiest – my little brother likes to do the same with fire…”

She trailed off, eyes narrowing; two recruits weren’t paying attention to her. One man nudged the other, nodding at something over Kal’s shoulder. Kal turned, raising an eyebrow when she spotted Verdun gliding onto the training field, dress billowing out behind her. She looked like a walking dream in comparison to the wardens surrounding her, clad in faded royal blue and mud-covered iron.

Kal glanced down at her own filthy armor and wrinkled her nose. Maybe she could get away with changing the uniform one day.

She turned her head back to the recruits with narrowed eyes. One of the older, more familiar looking recruits nudged them and whispered in their ears. Their eyes darted between Verdun and Kal.

“If you’re done gawking,” Kal crossed her arms, focusing on the younger of the recruits, “Why don’t you try this spell yourself?”

The recruit startled, hands shaking as he nodded and held his staff out in front of him. Flame sprung from his fingertips, creating a ball of fire that grew slowly outwards, bigger, crackling heat –

_Bang!_

It careened forwards in a shower of orange sparks. Kal squeaked and hopped to the left, flinching as the searing heat of the fireball narrowly missed her cheek. Her gaze followed its path, saw it heading straight for Verdun –

Who didn’t move.

Panic burst in Kal’s chest. She jammed the sparkling end of her staff into the ground and flicked it upwards – a wall of ice springing up in front of Verdun just as the fireball collided with it, a _hiss_ of steam the only thing left behind as Kal dropped the wall to reveal Verdun’s quietly shocked face.

It eventually made way for a sheepish smile as Kal stomped up to her, shooting a _look_ over her shoulder at the offending warden and waving for the group to disperse.

“Ah, _there_ you are.”

“Why didn’t you dodge – _oh.”_ Kal recognized the slightly glazed over look in Verdun’s eyes, the slight furrow in her brow.

She crossed her arms, “You forgot to remind me again.”

“Now, I think we’re _both_ at fault, here...”

Kal rolled her eyes and grabbed hold of Verdun’s hand, dragging her towards the keep, “It’s not _my_ responsibility.”

Verdun hummed, sounding amused, “You seemed eager enough to have a say on whether that fireball hit me or not though.”

She added after a beat, “…It _was_ a fireball, right?”

Kal glanced at her over her shoulder, “Well, he won’t be doing it again.”

Verdun chuckled, _“_ That sounds _so_ fearsome,” she shook her head, “It’s not a problem, really, I wasn’t hurt!”

“It won’t be soon,” Kal smirked.

Verdun sighed.

When they got to their bedroom they sat perched on the end of their bed, Kal concentrating hard as she held Verdun’s face in her hands, the warming glow highlighting her eyes in a sparkling golden haze.

After a few minutes Verdun reached a hand forward, brushing Kal’s cheekbone with her thumb, “So serious.”

Kal huffed, “It’s a hard spell.”

“I hope it’s not a bother.”

She immediately pouted, “It’s a healing spell. I _am_ a spirit healer, you know.”

Verdun laughed at her ferocious expression, finally able to focus on the details of her face again – the slight flush of her cheeks, the curl of her lips, even the beginnings of wrinkles – _‘they’re laughter lines!’_ – around her eyes.

“There you are,” she murmured softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Kal kissed her back with a smile and a little sigh, fingers tangling into Verdun’s hair for a moment before she pulled back, out of breath.

“Arm first.”

Verdun pouted, “So professional,” but she relented, holding her (admittedly stiff) arm out for Kal to heal.

Kal ran her fingers over the carved bark. She was always so careful with it, almost reverent. Her fingertips alternately brushed Verdun’s skin and the prosthetic, tracing patterns up and down. They were almost unfamiliar in their warmth, as they always were when she was healing. Her face got that ferociously serious expression again and Verdun couldn’t help leaning forward to press another kiss to her lips. Kal leaned into her for only a second this time before continuing her task.

“Let me _concentrate,”_ she whined, refocusing on the arm.

Verdun smiled slowly.

She leaned forward, _just_ so. Kal’s eyes flicked towards her irritably for a moment before turning back to the arm. Verdun reached a hand up to her own chest, slowly, teasingly untying the top of her dress. Kal’s eyes flicked downwards again.

“Can’t you wait five minutes?”

Verdun smirked, reaching one finger out and hooking it over the top of Kal’s chest plate, pulling her closer until their lips were inches apart, “Can you?”


	7. paperwork

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written by mel, edited by hester

Kal yawned, and her gaze flicked down to Verdun. She was sleeping soundly in the bed with her, arms wrapped securely around her waist, face buried in her stomach… Kal’s eyes were drooping, and it was getting very difficult not to join her. But she was surrounded by paperwork she’d been putting off for months, and she was running out of excuses. The papers covered every inch of the huge bed, sliding precariously on silken sheets; letters to write, reports to finish, budgets to approve, countless envelopes to seal with a wax griffon… Kal was starting to miss the days in Skyhold, sleeping the morning away in Verdun’s bed, leaving the Wardens to someone else. She contented herself with running her hand through Verdun’s hair every now and then instead, smiling idly at the happy, sleepy little murmur she always got in response.

She was running out of room though,  raising an eyebrow at the full bed as she separated yet another pile of papers. She eyed the top of Verdun’s head. She reached out a deliberate hand and ran her fingers through her hair again – getting another sleepy sigh. _Definitely_ asleep. Kal happily balanced the stack of papers on her head.

Verdun chose that exact moment to sneeze.

The papers shot out in twenty different directions.Kal squeaked, jolting forward and squashing Verdun’s head as she manically tried (and failed) to catch some of the pieces.

With the white sheets drifting down around them, Kal looked down at her bedmate. She was waking up now, blinking blearily at the papers surrounding her.

“You ruined my organization,” Kal told her with a sniff.

Verdun murmured something _completely_ incomprehensible back – maybe she was still asleep, after all – and the papers remaining on the bed rustled as she tightened her grip on Kal’s waist and pulled her further down into the sheets.

Kal relented with a sigh, wrapping her arms around Verdun,pulling her closer so that her warm cheek nuzzled into her chest. She smiled at the pleased murmur and sleepy kiss she got in response.

_Five minute break,_ she thought as she buried her face into Verdun’s mess of wavy white hair, letting her eyelids droop, _maybe ten._


End file.
